Heavily Broken
by walkingdeadfan
Summary: Collection of Carol/Daryl one shots. Number two- Feelings. Daryl didn't get those feelings until he felt her freckled cheek against his rough one.
1. Chapter 1

**Number one - Meeting**

Carol had always found him repulsive. An inappropriate redneck the cussed too much and bled to often; and always seemed to paired with his even more repulsive, racist brother. She always thought how she would never want either of them around her little girl, especially when they saunter into camp with squirrels tied to their backs and bottles in their hands. It took two washes to clean their clothes, and two hands to cover her daughter's ears when they cussed.

The first time he spoke to her he saved her life. They hadn't been in camp long; no one really knew each other. Carol can't even remember what she was doing out in the woods at night, why she had decided to go out alone. But there it was, just one. She had never been that close to one before. It must have been a teenager. Maybe a person that Carol had seen in the store, or on the street before all this went down. Maybe the walker had been a sweet girl. She limped towards her, her painful moans getting louder as the walker approached her. Carol stood in shock, her fingers shaking, her lips quivering. She let out a few struggled cries as the walkers hands reached for her, as she noticed the hunger in its eyes. Carol felt herself back into a tree, clawing into as if it would move out of her way. She wanted to scream for help, but all she could do was let out cries as she prepared for the walker to bite in.

And all of sudden, it was dead. She covered her mouth as her wide eyes looked down at the walker, an arrow lodged into its head. She could feel herself slide against the tree, gently landing on the ground so she could hug her knees and cry. Her eyes shot up to the darkness as she heard the laughter. At first she thought it was another one, but then he started talking.

"Look Merle, that is one ugly dead slut!" Daryl squealed as he came into Carol's view. He had a smile on his face, his cross bow by his side. He ran his free hand through his sweaty locks of hair before pulling his arrow out from the walkers head. Carol looked away as he looked down at her, as if he hadn't noticed she was there before.

"Very nice, baby brother!" Merle laughed as he staggered in, giving his brother a quick push. He scanned the body, laughing. "Now you best be happy that it wasn't me!" Merle yells at the walker, leaning down to close to it for Carol's comfort. He spits into the walker's face. "Ugly bitch." Merle stands tall in satisfaction before she notices Carol is there. He gives her a large, uneasy smile. "Now, how you gonna repay me for savin' your precious life, pretty lady?" he leans down toward Carol, and she recalls that he almost smells as bad as a walker.

Daryl pushes him to the ground. "Come on, Merle." He laughs as Merle jumps to his feet, ramming his shoulder into Daryl's. He stumbles a few feet back before balancing himself by grabbing onto Merle's jacket. "Let's get." Daryl says as he pushes Merle ahead of him. Daryl starts to follow, but he looks back all of a sudden, as if he has just remembered Carol was even there. She looks up at him with her teary eyes, obviously scared. He places his hands out to her, and she just stares at it, her shaky hands hesitant to take his. Daryl rolls his eyes. "Well, you're welcome!" He says sarcastically before he turns and walks away.

Carol always wanted to say thank you, even if they did smile and laugh as if it was a joke, like it wasn't scary. She always just wanted to look at him, nod with gratitude. Maybe give him a smile that had showed she was grateful. But of course she didn't; she would never talk to a redneck, inappropriate hick like him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Number two ~ Feelings. **

Daryl Dixon did not have emotions like that. He refused. He wasn't going to be some baby pussy that had butterflies in his stomach when some whiny woman that cried to much looked at him. He refused to accept the nerves lurching in his body, the way he could feel the sweet form at his brow, they way he couldn't look at her. Just _no. _

The feelings didn't come until the one uneventful morning at camp. Carol had made beans for the camp at breakfast and Daryl hadn't said please when he demanded her for seconds. Now he sat Indian style in his tent, his wet cloth running up and down the arrows for his crossbow, his eyes inspecting his arrow for any marks or ticks that could effect it's performance when he went out to hunt later. Merle and some of the others had left into town and Daryl was bored as fuck; a good hunt had always occupied his time. He was loading his arrows into the crossbow when she was there all of sudden. Of course he noticed, no matter how meek she was; but he barley look up. She looked down at him with a suppressed look on her face, and a laundry basket stuck to her hip.

Before she could ask him, Daryl gestured over to the pile of his favorite pair of jeans and a few of his ripped flannel shirts in the corner of his tent. Carol took it has an invitation to stumble into the small tent, and Daryl continued to pretend to polish his crossbow because he wanted it to seem like he didn't give a shit about Carol. She squatted down in front of the laundry. Scanning the ground in dirt stains that she could never seem to get out. She pursed her lips when she noticed that the cuffs of his jeans were drenched red with blood, and it made her wonder what he could possibly do when he left camp. She quickly dropped them in her basket and got up to exit when the mesh material of the tent had twisted and Carol couldn't keep her balance, she let out a surprised yelp as she stumbled right on top of Daryl.

_Shit. _They came like a head on collision, like he had just ran into a brick wall. She shut her eyes when they made contact, their legs intertwining, Carol's body warm against him all of a sudden, her hands clenching onto his wrists as if she was holding on for dear life. She dropped her head next to his. The feelings hit for the first time when he could barley feel the softness of her freckled cheek against his rough one.

If felt as if a lifetime had passed before she scrambled off of him, and they both looked at each other with red cheeks. Of course that wasn't anything new for Carol, but Daryl _didn't _blush. "I'm so sorry!" She mumbled as she quickly reached around Daryl to pick up the clothes that had gone haywire when she had fallen.

Daryl had to blink a few times before he could regain his composure. "What the fuck?" He said to her, sounding just like the Daryl that everyone knew. He stood up fast with his crossbow in his hands, and she looked up at him with her deer eyes, tears already forming in the corners. "Why don't'cha watch where you going next time?" He walked out before he could her that soft voice apologize more.

Daryl had already shot 7 squirrels and started to track a deer before he started to think about it, and he hated it more than anything.

He realized that he was thinking about the way her body felt against his.


End file.
